


Queen's Gambit

by weakinteraction



Category: Chess - Rice/Ulvaeus/Andersson
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Femdom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:26:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23971540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weakinteraction/pseuds/weakinteraction
Summary: Florence has ways of getting Freddie to do what she wants.
Relationships: Frederick Trumper/Florence Vassy
Comments: 13
Kudos: 14
Collections: Id Pro Quo 2020





	Queen's Gambit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SegaBarrett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/gifts).



Freddie lay on the bed, fully dressed, staring up at the ornate hotel ceiling and feeling ... nothing, really. It had been a fraught few days -- travelling to Merano had been relatively straightforward, but everything since then had been tense and difficult, not least the press conference that Florence insisted on calling "disastrous", where he'd risen to obvious bait, giving them exactly the story they wanted. The opening ceremony earlier today had been ... well, a colossal waste of time, but not quite such a farce as that.

But it was the argument he'd had with Florence afterwards that had put him in this low mood. He'd asked her for one more practice game, but he'd fluffed the development of his Caro-Kann defence and ended up storming away from the board. Florence had started to lecture him about the need for decorum when he played in the match -- or at least a lecture was what it had felt like at the time, although now he had to admit the truth of everything she had said. But at the time, he'd just left her room entirely and come back to his own.

Tomorrow, he had to play his first match against Sergievsky. And he felt completely unprepared. He tried to tell himself that he played at his best when he was aggressive, unpredictable; that that was how he'd won the championship he was now defending in the first place. But that wasn't how this felt; if there was any anger, it was turned in on himself.

He didn't know how long he'd been lying there when the knock came at the door.

"Freddie, it's me," Florence said.

He stayed on the bed.

Florence knocked again, more insistently. "Freddie, let me in," she said. " _Quickly._ "

The urgency in the tone of her voice made him jump up off the bed before he'd even realised what he was doing. When he opened the door, she burst through it so quickly, pushing it shut behind her with her foot, that it took him a moment to register that she seemed to be wearing only one of the hotel's bathrobes. And a moment more to realise that she was already slipping it off, revealing a sheer negligee that came down to her mid-thigh. Not quite the same as some of the costumes she wore at home, but Freddie supposed that she had to think about what she could bring with her without raising eyebrows.

Freddie's despondency had already evaporated, replaced by an altogether different set of feelings. He had the slight suspicion that Florence was using this side of their relationship to handle him in their professional one, but couldn't quite bring himself to care.

"So," Florence said, not quite as sternly as she might have done, "are you ready to apologise?"

"If you're ready to accept an 'apology'," Freddie said. "And it certainly looks like you are."

"Bad boy," Florence said.

"I suppose an apology by itself isn't going to be enough?" Freddie said.

"Do you want it to be?"

"No, I suppose not," Freddie said.

"Well, then, take off your clothes," Florence said, in a tone of voice that didn't even entertain the notion that he would dare to contradict her, and so didn't need to be as commanding as it could have been.

Freddie complied quickly, fumbling a little with the tie and belt in his excitement. Whatever Florence had in store for him, he expected he would end up enjoying it ... after a fashion, at least.

Florence pulled out one of the chairs by the side of the small table at the side of the room. "Sit," she said. Freddie did so, and was only a little surprised when she started to tie his ankles to its legs -- mostly because he hadn't spotted the restraints, either in her luggage earlier, or when she'd entered the room just now. He wondered what she would have said if her luggage had been inspected on their way in -- would she have tried to pass them off as some sort of garter belts? Or would she have just given the customs official a knowing wink and gone on her way?

The chair had no arms, and so Florence took his left wrist and attached it to the top of the back leg. Freddie's excitement was mounting, although Florence seemed to take no notice of his increasingly hard cock as it pointed upwards. Often when she tied him like this she would ride him hard, and he would be allowed -- sometimes even ordered -- to come at the end of it.

He was so lost in the momentary fantasy that it took him a while to realise that she had stepped away, rather than securing his other arm. Freddie waved his hand, to indicate that it wasn't restrained.

"You're going to need that to move your pieces."

"My pieces?"

Florence sat down opposite him and started placing the pieces on the board, in the same efficient way that she had just restrained him.

"Oh, I see what you're doing," Freddie said with a sigh.

"You heard the Arbiter," Florence said. "Anything other than perfect behaviour at the table is going to go against you. So you're going to practise staying still in your chair."

"You should untie my other hand so that I can use the clock," Freddie said.

Florence shook her head. "We're not going to be using the clock," she said. "Once I've explained the special rules, I don't think you'll be wasting time."

"There are more special rules than just me being tied to the chair naked?" Freddie said. "Because I don't think that's going to happen when I play Sergievsky."

"Details, details," Florence said lightly. Having finished arranging the starting position, she sat down herself and moved the white queen's pawn forward two spaces.

"Ah, the--"

"Don't," Florence said. She got up again, and this time came around to crouch behind him, whispering in his ear. "Now, when you play tomorrow you're going to have to be able to ignore distractions. Even, shall we say, deliberate provocation." Freddie startled as she placed her hand around his cock. "So here's what's going to happen. Every time you take one of my pieces, I'm going to stroke your cock -- one stroke for each pawn it's worth."

"You know, pawn value's a very crude measure of--"

He broke off as he felt her pull her hand down his shaft with just the right amount of firmness. "If you don't want me to ..."

"No, no, I'm perfectly willing to go along with your idea."

"You always are," Florence said, going back to the other side of the table. "In the end."

"And what if I win?"

"What makes you think you're going to?" Florence said with a grin.

"Indulge the hypothetical," Freddie said.

Florence mused. "I'll finish you off with my mouth," she said. "How does that sound?"

"Wonderful," Freddie said sincerely.

"And if I win?" Florence said.

"You can do ... whatever you want," Freddie said.

Florence smiled. "But that was already true, wasn't it?"

"Perhaps," Freddie admitted. "But since it turned out what you wanted to do was make some sort of point ..."

"It's my _job_ to help you practise," Florence said mischievously. "Now play."

Freddie considered the Queen's Indian Defence for long enough that his hand hovered over the knight, but eventually decided to simply mirror Florence's move by bringing forward his queen's pawn, allowing her to make the classic Queen's Gambit. He accepted it, largely to see if she would follow through on her promise.

Sure enough, as soon as he put her pawn down at the side of the board, she got up again, smiling broadly, and got into the same position she had before, crouching behind him. She wrapped her hand around him and pumped once. As soon as she had done so, she stood back up again and returned to make her move.

The game proceeded relatively quickly, albeit with a pause whenever Freddie took a piece as Florence came around to stroke him. The filthy joke that she made after he had taken her bad bishop nearly made him come on the spot. He could tell that he was playing even more aggressively than usual, but he didn't much care, when this was the outcome of each capture.

And then it happened. Florence moved her queen forward. He could take it easily -- with a rook, no less; this was no offered exchange, and the rook was not vulnerable once he'd used it for the capture. He looked at the board again, trying to work out what he'd missed, but couldn't see anything.

"Ooops," Florence said, sounding for all the world as though the loss of her queen had been entirely intentional. She got up once more and came around to adopt her now familiar position, crouching behind him. "If you come from this, that's it," Florence whispered in his ear, then kissed his earlobe.

Freddie nodded, then swallowed as he felt her fingers wrap around him. She stroked him firmly, evenly, smoothly, and _ever_ so slowly; each time she reached the bottom of his shaft his cock twitched desperately. By the sixth stroke, Freddie was doing everything in his power to keep himself from coming -- not that he had many options, tied up like this and so completely exposed to whatever Florence chose to do. But thinking about that fact only turned him on more; willpower was all he had left, but he would be damned if he didn't have a lot of willpower when he wanted to.

For the seventh stroke, Florence relaxed her grip, using just the tips of her fingers to slide back and forth along his shaft, while her thumb circled his glans. Freddie screwed his eyes tight shut with concentration. "You must _really_ want that blowjob," Florence said, her breath hot on his earlobe before stroking him again in the same way. Freddie clenched his buttocks involuntarily as the combination of her actions and her words served only to bring him even closer to the point of no return.

For the ninth stroke, she went back to the same technique she'd been using before, but this time, as she reached the top of his shaft again, she squeezed him tightly between her thumb and forefinger. Freddie groaned as he felt the incipient orgasm fade away again; he had been only a hair's breadth away. Had Florence known that, and was helping him? Or had she intended to some of the pleasure out of the experience when he did come?

All she said was a crisp, "Well done," before returning to her seat, and calmly capturing one of his bishops with a knight. A minor improvement in her position on the board, but surely not one that justified the sacrifice of her queen?

Over the next few moves, she sprung the trap. He had been so distracted by what was going on on the queen's side -- and, he had to admit to himself, his raging erection -- that he had left his castled king too limited an escape route from the tangled mess that had developed on the king's side. With a sequence of forks and pins, Florence demolished Freddie's defences, while leaving his own queen -- and the rook that had captured Florence's, now stranded where it could be of no help -- useless in the face of the onslaught.

"Checkmate," Florence said with a grin that said "Yes, I was playing _you_ as much as the game -- but it worked, didn't it?"

"Congratulations," Freddie said insincerely.

"You're not going to let this get in your head, are you?" Florence said. "Like you said, playing Sergievsky won't be anything like this."

"So what happens now?" Freddie said.

" _Now_ we use the clock," Florence said. She looked down at the neatly arranged row of Freddie's pieces she had captured. "I make that thirteen pawns' worth of your pieces. I think each of those is good for one minute of you going down on me once I've untied you. Or should we make it two?"


End file.
